It's the last thing anyone in that alley expects: some tiny guy flying into the fray with over-sized coat a-flutter and going straight for the biggest throat on offer. Steve has audacity and shock in his favor, at least for the first minute. The thug he goes for had been bending to kick his prone target a few times; he staggers to one side, leaning back and grabbing at the bag throttling him.

The guy they were attacking may have been resigned to going limp and taking it, but when the thug starts staggering and stamping around blindly, he rolls over and scrambles out of range. The thug's partner doesn't seem to care about him any more. He's cursing in outraged disbelief at this interference.

"Kargash, you motherless idiot! Throw him off!"

Whether obeying or not, Steve's opponent reaches back to grab his arms, aiming to throw the smaller man over his head with a cry that's more sputter than bellow.

And meanwhile, further up the main street? Bryn looks around in growing surprise and alarms the Ghost by asking "Wait, where'd Steve go?"

"He's- oh. But- he was right behind us just a minute ago..."